Self-Harm
by mightydeafeningmouse
Summary: Peter thought his depression and self-destruction behavior was behind him. Or, Peter turns to the blade after a rough night, then goes to Tony for comfort.
1. Chapter 1

"Friday, turn up my tunes!" Tony shouted to the ceiling as he worked on Clint's new arrows.

Regardless to Tony's wishes, Friday turned his "tunes" down more. "Sir, Mr. Parker is requesting access to the lab."

"Yep, let him in." Tony replied, going back to the arrows.

Tony heard the swoosh of the lab doors open and close. "Pete, come here, wanna show you something!" He called out.

A couple of seconds later, Tony realized Peter hadn't come over to him.

"Peter?" He called out curiously.

"T-Tony?" Tony turned around to see Peter leaning up against a table.

"Hey. Finished your new webs this morning, so if you want to give that a go-" As Peter came closer to Tony, he saw that the kid was trembling.

"Tony... I'm sorry." Peter whispered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't m-mean to."

"What happened? Did someone do something?" Tony couldn't stop concern from seeping into his voice as he put his hands on Peter's shoulders, trying to get Peter to look at him.

Tony felt his heart speed up, his anxiety kicking in. He had seen Peter cry before, but only once. Peter had gotten shot in his shoulder and he had come to the tower for Tony to help him, but because of his weird spider metabolism, he couldn't take any anastasia or pain killers or anything to knock him out. Tony had to under go surgery on the poor kid with no medicine at all in his system at all.

Peter crying was truly a heartbreaking sight. When he cried while Tony safely extracted the bullet from his body, he made these terrible, heart wrenching whimpers and cries. Peter laid on the hard, cold metal table, tears streaming down his cheeks, eyes closed.

But then, Peter opened his big, brown puppy eyes. And it was the worst sight Tony had ever seen.

And now, here they were, Peter trembling into Tony's arms, whispering out apologies every three seconds.

"Hey. Hey, look at me," Tony said firmly. "I need you to tell me what happened. It's okay, I'm not mad, just tell me."

Peter stuttered outa shrill, "I'm sorry," before slowly pulling up the sleeve of his over sized hoodie.

Blood was oozing out of many, small 1-4 inch horizontal and vertical cuts that ran all down his arms.

Tony gasped, immediately grabbing Peter's wrists.

"Peter...did," Tony hesitated. "Did you do this?" He whispered.

"I-I didn't mean to-" Peter whimpered. Tony took that as a yes.

'Oh God. Shit, holy fucking shit.' Tony was screaming inside his head. 'How fucking long has he been cutting himself? Is he depressed? Is he suicidal? Maybe not, he came to me for help. Said he didn't mean to. What the fuck?'

Silently, Tony firmly pulled Peter by his skinny, cut covered wrists over to a sink that was tucked away in a corner of the lab. Peter could tell Tony didn't use this sink often by the way the cold water knob squeaked as Tony turned it.

Peter flinched as Tony pressed water into the cuts, trying to clean them out.

When Tony had finished cleaning Peter's cuts with water, he bent down and took a travel sized first-aid kit out, placing it one the counter and opening it up.

Peter couldn't help the tears that were flowing down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry Tony. I d-didn't mean t-to. I'm sorry-"

"Let me finish this, okay? We'll talk after." Tony said a bit too harshly, and Peter nodded, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

Tony glanced at the kid. His lips were slightly quivering, he was on the verge of hyperventilating, and tears were just streaming out of his big puppy eyes. Tony instantly softened.

"Hey, Bud, I'm not mad, okay? I just don't want you to bleed to much, and you'll be in a world of hurt if these get infected. I'm just gonna put some cream and disinfectant on your arms, wrap them up, and then I'll make us coffee, and we can talk about this." Tony shocked himself with the tone of his voice. Where had that come from? Never in his whole life had Tony heard himself sound so soft and gentle.

Tony's kind, gentle voice seemed to work, as Peter nodded and his body -despite the shaking- relaxed and became a bit less tense.

'Good,' Tony thought to himself, 'Just use that tone with him and he'll be calm soon.'

Reaching into the small first-aid kit, Tony looked at Peter saying, "This will sting a bit," before a pulled out the disinfectant spray, which was basically rubbing alcohol in a spray bottle, and quickly spraying Peter's arms.

Peter winced as Tony tucked the disinfectant back into the mini kit, seconds later pulling out bandages and special healing cream.

Popping the lid open to the healing cream, Tony worked fast. He took Peter's arms in his hands, evenly spreading the cream out to cover all on the cuts.

 **((A/N:** I am by no means a doctor or nurse. I haven't the slightest clue as how to take care of these wounds, or to what is what in the vast world of medical supplies, I'm so sorry if I'm confusing people, basically, Tony bandages Peter's arms. **))**

Next was the bandages. Tony took Peter's arm, slowly wrapping the spongy cloth around his arm. When he finished, Tony took a sliver of medical tape to put on the loose bandage end so it wouldn't unravel when he let go.

"All done. C'mon, I'll make coffee." Tony lead Peter onto his personal floor of the tower, gently pushing Peter down onto a soft, warm couch. Seconds later, Tony was shoving six thick, fuzzy, warm blankets onto the shaking boy.

"Alright, get comfy, I'll go make coffee." With that, Tony disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts.

In that moment, Peter was enveloped in blankets, but he had never felt more cold.


	2. Chapter 2

In that moment, Peter was enveloped in blankets, but he had never felt more cold.

 _'He's mad at you.'_ Peter thought to himself. _'Of course he's mad at you. He was probably trying to have a quiet night, maybe get some extra sleep, but then your fat ass came along and ruined his night.'_

Peter buried himself further into his mound of plush blankets. _'God dammit, you're worthless! Can you not see? You couldn't even save Uncle Ben.'_

Peter's mind was screaming at him. _'They probably don't even want you. May doesn't want you, she never wanted you! She and Ben had to take you in. They didn't want you. They never wanted you. Nobody ever wants you.'_

He's tried closing his eyes, but all he could see was Uncle Ben's bleeding, lifeless body laying along the cold, filthy sidewalk of New York.

 _'You're the reason Ben died! You're the reason Aunt May is sad! It's your fault, it's all your fault!' His mind roared._

Peter whimpered into his blankets, more tears leaking from his eyes.

 _'There you go again, cry like the little baby you are! Pathetic. Weak. Stupid. You don't deserve half of what you have. There's only one thing in the world that you actually deserve. And that's a blade slicing through your skin.'_

Peter heard footsteps heading his way. Quickly, he dried to tears from his cheeks with a blanket and then uncovered his head.

"Thank you," Peter whispered as Tony carefully handed him a large, black MIT mug.

 _'Jesus,'_ Tony thought. Peter looked terrible. His eyes were sad and red from crying, he had started trembling again, and there were heavy bags under his eyes.

"Don't mention it," Tony sighed as he sat himself down on a couch diagonal from Peter.

Tony sipped his coffee. "You going to tell me what happened?" Peter hid his face behind his mug. "Pete, I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I'm not angry with you, and I understand this is a hard thing to talk about, sorry, but avoiding this discussion is not an option."

"Tony...it's just...Flash, he..." Peter tripped over his words. Tony looked at him with a encouraging nod, as if to tell him it's okay. "Uncle Ben died...because of me."

Tony sat quietly.

"It's my fault Tony," Peter whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. "If I'd just- if I'd been a better nephew, Ben would still be breathing."

Tears were beginning to fall from his eyes. "A-And this kid, Flash, he...he likes to do things to me, likes to call me things. He said I'm worthless and useless. Weak and pathetic. A-And he's right."

"M-My friend, MJ, last year, before w-we were f-friends, s-she heard me cry in the bathroom, and she found me c-cutting. She made me promise n-not to cut again, a-and I-I did promise. But I'm weak, and it was a b-bad d-day and th-the voices are back in my head and-and I needed to cut, I just needed to- and I'm really, r-really sorry." He whimpered.

Peter suddenly felt a dip in the couch cushion. He looked up to find Tony sitting beside him, unraveling his blankets. Tony gently pulled Peter's mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry I c-can't d-do things write. I'm so sorry th-that I'm weak and useless. You told m-me to be better, a-and I'm sorry that I'm not." Tony could literally feel his heart shatter and his stomach twist.

"No, Peter. No," Tony whispered softly as he pulled Peter's head into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peter repeated into Tony's chest. His body was shaking violently in Tony's arms. Peter's tears were soaking Tony's old Black Sabbath shirt, but the last thing Tony cared about right now was his shirt.

"Hey, hey, It's okay, Peter, it's okay. Everything is okay." Tony used his soft, gentle voice as he rubbed comforting circles on his back.

Peter whimpered again. "Please, Tony, I'm sorry, d-don't leave me. Please," Peter's small, tiny voice cracked with every syllable.

"I'll stay right here, okay?" Peter snuggled deeper into Tony chest. Peter sniffled, his body still trembling.

"Peter...believe me when I say that I have seen stupid person. I have seen weak and pathetic person, you are not of those person. Needing help does not mean you are weak, it means that you are strong enough to ask." Tony softly pushed Peter back from his chest, locking eyes with the boy.

"I don't know much about your uncles death. But, I do know that you certainly are not the reason for his death." Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Tony wasn't having it.

"Did you tell him to fire the gun?" Tony says with authority.

"N-No, but-"

"Did you push him into the bullet?"

"Well, n-no."

"Did you pull the trigger?"

"No-"

"Then you did not kill Ben." Tony confirmed. "Pete, there's always going to be someone who doesn't live through your fights, no matter how hard you try. It sucks, I know it does, but the reality of this, is that you can't save everyone."

Peter fiddled with the bottom of his hoodie. "B-But I can try."

"Kid, you've tried. You work your hardest, I know you do, and you save a boat load of people too, but you can't always save everybody. For every 1 person that dies, you save 100 more people. It isn't fair, but nothing ever really is." Tony pulled Peter onto his lap again and Peter nestled himself into Tony's chest.

"And I don't want to hear any of this "I'm sorry" bullshit. Peter, when I told you I wanted you to be better, it didn't mean you weren't good enough. I meant that I didn't want you to make the same mistakes I made."

Peter rested his head against Tony's arc reactor.

"You are not worthless. You are not useless. You are not weak, pathetic, stupid, or any of the other things Flash calls you. Listen, I wouldn't have made the suit for you if I didn't think you were good enough. I wouldn't let you keep coming to the tower and the lab if I didn't like you."

Peter pulled himself out of Tony's embrace, then laying down on the couch, resting his head on Tony's lap.

"And kid, if this happens again, call me. Text me. You could talk to Ned or this MJ character or May. Hell, even call Happy if you need to. Just don't deal with this on your own. We want to help you, we care about you...I care about you Peter." Tony found himself combing his fingers through Peter's soft brown hair.

"You can always come and talk to me, always. Bud, I want you to be safe. So does Ned and May and even Happy." Peter tilted his head in Tony's lap.

"Happy said he doesn't like me." Peter said weakly.

Tony felt a little prick in his chest. "He asks about you, if you don't call or text him for a while. He asks where you are and if you're injured. I've even caught him looking at the suit vitals before. He worries about you, kid. He cares for you, and if you needed someone to talk to, he will be there for you."

Peter was beginning to drift off.

"Pete?"

"Mhmm?" Peter mumbled sleepily.

"You are enough."

Tony carefully bent down and softly kissed Peter's forehead.

Peter was better with Tony here. Tony wouldn't let anything hurt him.


End file.
